Phantom of a Memory
by KiraKakes
Summary: A tragic accident throws a young girl into an all too familiar world. With a small sense of confidence, all she wants is to return home. Will she be able to find her way out, or will she be trapped forever? Spoilers for DH.
1. Chapter 1

**So I really, really should be working on that summer assignment that's due in like a week or two. I really should. So, naturally, I'm starting a new fanfic:) Hope the summary did this a little bit of justice (ha, ha. I couldn't think up a good one), but I'd like to be perfectly clear, just in case. I realize the idea may be a bit hackneyed, but I'm doing my best to make it original. :)**

**There will be spoilers for all of the books in this fanfic. Your first one's coming up in the disclaimer :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series or any of its characters…sniffle or, well, certain things that happened in the end of the 7th book wouldn't have happened. sob REMUS! Nor do I own Star Wars, Indiana Jones, or any other thing that may have been inadvertently mentioned. Please don't sue me, I don't have money.**

**Well, that one really wasn't so bad…annnnnnd here we go…..**

Chapter One

"It was a dark, cold, stormy, horrid night…" The brunette rolled her eyes at the terribly clichéd opening. When she'd told her friend Heather she would give her pointers on writing a novel for the ages, she hadn't exactly anticipated the worst. Not like she was any amazing writer of any sort herself but…well…

She forced her eyes back to the thin sheet of notebook paper in front of her, recalling her friend's exact words on the piece.

"_I want this book to be amazing! Like, a cross between Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, and Star Wars, with some humor, and plenty of romance, and action! But there has to be suspense too, with an element of horror! And, of course, it'll have that family friendly quality that will keep everyone coming back! At least until the tragic death scene…"_

At the time, Liz, a.k.a. the brunette in question, had inquired if Heather was really ready to write a novel of her own. At the time, Liz had feared for her life. Heather was a dreamer, but she was an athletic dreamer with a mean left hook. And so, there she was, stuck on that, ironically, turbulent night, reading her friend's writing attempts in her room. Liz bit her thumb and willed her eyes onward, mumbling the words she read under her breath.

"Princess Starsugar stared out the window on to the green, soft, swaying, thin grass…oh God Heather…" Liz stared sadly at the crap that was her best friend's hard effort. Maybe the blond was better suited to poetry? Just as Liz was pondering how she should break her suggestion, the phone rang. She silently thanked whomever was taking her away from her misery…at least until she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"LIZ! So I just thought of the GREATEST plot twist ever! It's going to make my readers cry, and laugh, and smile, and be incredibly depressed, but in a good way!"

"Hi Heather."

Liz loved Heather. She really did. The two were like sisters. Every now and then, however, Heather became obsessive. First it had been becoming a famous comic artist. Day in and day out, Liz had seen sketches of 'The Adventures of Mr. Blue' and concepts for new plots. Then were the night school trips and practice lessons for when she was to become the greatest calculus professor to walk the planet. Liz had played the role of the 'eager' student. Now, Heather wanted only to be the most celebrated novelist of her generation.

"I was thinking Princess Starsugar could really be part of this HUUUGE unicorn army! Like the leader! Cause she's really a unicorn!"

"Wait…what?"

"Oh well, I'll work that out later. Anyway, I was thinking up some theme music for when my book gets turned into a major film. Something like…. BAHHHHH bah bah bah BAHHHH-BADADADUMMMMM bah bah dah dah de dahhh! Of course that would only be one of the scores, but still…"

It wasn't the lofty aspirations that bothered Liz. It was the whole 'getting carried away' part.

"That's…really nice Heather…" The dramatic interpretation from the other end of the line was difficult to make out, so Liz just did her best to give her support.

"Thanks!" Even through the phone Liz could tell her friend was beaming. A comfortable silence fell over them, as often happened with their phone conversations.

"Hey," Heather finally broke the quiet, "you want to come over and help me figure out this one chapter? I skipped ahead to the end, cause I thought of a killer ending," she added the last part as to avoid confusion.

"Oh?" Liz did her best to put on a mildly interested tone.

"Yeah!" Liz smiled at her friend's enthusiasm. Usually, Heather could read her well, but when she became enthralled with her newest activity, the ability seemed to fade. "See, in the end, Princess Starsugar falls in love with the free-riding horse caretaker, who ends up being a prince!"

"I see…" Liz had grasped her copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and was flipping pages, rereading bits here and there.

"Yeah, he's the prince of this far off land, where they're all a family of horse-breeders!"

"Uh-huh…" a small choke got into her voice as she re-read Sirius' death scene. It got her every time.

"I know! Isn't it so sweet?!" Heather had obviously mistaken the emotion directed towards the novel Liz was reading to her own.

"Ah, yes. Incredibly."

"So, think you can come?"

Liz looked to her digital stereo to find it was just around 11 at night. The two girls lived on opposite sides of a pretty main street, exactly across from one another. If both were to be in their respective back yards, they could easily see one another.

"I dunno Heather…" the brunette looked out the window to where droplets of rain had become sheets. "It's sort of bleak weather…"

"Aw, it's not that bad!"

Heather had a tendency to make every storm look like a drizzle, literal or otherwise. Once, the two girls had snuck into a private park after it had closed at sunset, wanting to relive their childhood by taking a quick ride on the swings. Of course the two had swung a little too high, and yelled out frivolities such as "I'M FLYING MAMA!" one too many times, and before they knew it, a night cop dressed in all black, who thought himself far too important and mighty considering what he really was (a cop on patrol duty in a family neighborhood at 2 in the morning), was nearing them. As the two had seen the light of his flashlight approaching them ominously, Heather had wildly thrown up the hood on her jacket, and yanked up her zipper. With a grin that could only be described as that of a maddened psychopath, she jumped from the swing, and gave a bellow for Liz to do the same.

Now Liz was not an adventurous person by nature. It was all easy and well to talk about sneaking out of the house one dark night and catching the next train to Nevada to become a famed Las Vegas bartender, but well, she'd be the one watching the train depart from the window.

And so, through the dark fall night the two had run, causing the overly large security guard to give chase. Liz, who in all of her 16 years had never been very athletic, and was not in the best shape of her life, had outran even Heather, the self-proclaimed high school track star of the same age, in a rush of pure adrenaline. They hopped the chain link fence as the protruding stomach of the officer came ever nearer, his resounding flesh bouncing heavily in the night. With a quick motion to Liz, Heather had sharply changed direction and led Liz to hop a neighboring fence, dash through a dimly lit backyard housing a hungry rottweiler, and finally to clamber up to her roof so as not to wake her parents with their entrance.

Once the two girls had safely made it to Heather's room on the second floor, without any indication they had left at all, Liz collapsed in a muddy, shaky heap on the nearby bed. Heather looked at her questioningly, but then smiled as she bent down to remove her shoes.

"I really thought when we hit those giant oaks we were done in for sure!" She said cheerfully with a giant, toothy grin.

"Hu-hu-huhh-haa-haaa" Liz's heaving gasps for air turned into a kind of nervous laugh. "We-almost-got…caught…by-the…police!"

At that, Heather smiled. "At least I broke in these new sneakers!" she had exclaimed brightly.

"Helloooo? Liz? Still there?"

Liz was taken from her memory abruptly as Heather called through the speaker.

"Yeah, still here."

"Pleeeeeeeaaaase come over?" Liz could tell she was getting puppy dog eyed, even over the phone.

"But…I'm reading Harry Potter. The fifth one. It's my favorite." Liz made a pointed attempt to sound sincere in her argument. It failed.

"Oh, come on. You've read it like a million times already. And I really need help getting this prince thing down."

Liz sighed in defeat. She always had a hard time saying no to Heather. As soon as the breath had escaped her mouth, Heather knew of her victory.

"Yay! Thank you! I'll wait for you out in the yard!" The line went dead, and Liz uttered another sigh. Setting down her own receiver, she pulled on her sneakers, knowing the horrid mud she would face in the current conditions. Grabbing a particularly fluffy jacket from her closet, she headed quietly for the door, hoping the visit wouldn't take very long. It was late, and she really didn't want to run the risk of getting caught.

As she slipped quietly out the front, Liz looked out from the overhang into the raining night. She could barely see two feet in front of her, it was so bad. With a small, whimpering sort of noise, she pulled on her jacket and wrapped it around her bulky frame. On the seventh count of three, she bolted into the icy night, made even colder by the piercing storm. In a small burst of energy, she ran towards the direction she assumed Heather's house to be in.

But it was dark.

And so she couldn't see the road.

Or the speeding driver tearing around the corner.

And he couldn't see her.

The headlights shone brightly into her bulging, frightened eyes, and it was too late.

A sickening thud, screeching wheels, and all went black.

**Well that was a cliffhanger. And had absolutely nothing to do with Harry Potter. The next one will. After all, this is just an intro. :) ****Hope you all enjoyed! If you did, I'll post more :)****. Please review! Till next time!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to my one reviewer! I'd like to think there are more people out there…hehe? Please review! It really does mean a lot to me!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series or any of its characters…sniffle or, well, any other thing that may have been inadvertently mentioned. **

**On with it, then….**

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**Chapter Two:**

****

Liz gave a soft groan as she stirred back to consciousness. She had hoped to feel the soft covers from her bed below her, as if the entire night had just been the product of one too many cookies before bed. She had expected to feel the hard, sopping asphalt that had, no doubt, broken her fall. What, in reality, she was now sprawled out across was, to her surprise, soft blades of grass, covered in dew.

The girl mildly wondered if she had somehow managed to be thrown off to the side, where the lawn met the road, but curiously noted the rain had finished its pounding rage. She still refused to open her eyes, curious as to her surroundings, but not yet entirely sure as to if she was ready to accept them. So instead, she waited for Heather's frantic cry, or the rantings of the crazed driver, just to put her mind at ease. As long as she could hear familiarity, she would feel better.

The only familiar thing, however, remained growing from the ground, supporting her frame.

After quite a few moments of internal debate, Liz finally got the courage to open her eyes. From the position in which she was laying, on her side, she could make out the glossy surface of a large lake. It almost seemed picturesque in the starry night. The soft blades that the ground consisted of, the towering evergreens that bordered the area, the giant gothic-style castle reflected in the lake…

Wait, what?

Liz did a double take at the mirror image that caught her glance. She blinked a few times, unsure of what she was seeing. Rubbing her eyes, she barely managed to avoid losing her contact as she, once again, attempted to clear her vision. Sure enough, the castle glimmered back at her. Perhaps the crash had given her a concussion?

Using her arms as a support, she gently craned her sore neck around to see the real building, looming above her.

Surely the crash had given her a concussion.

Still lacking the strength to get up, as she felt rather weak and sore, she simply gaped, openmouthed, at the spectacle before her. It was beautiful! Surely she'd never seen anything like it in all of her years. The gray stone building looked as if it had recently leaped from the pages of a European history textbook. Liz flopped back down to the ground, eyes widened.

One part of her was screaming out in joy. She was in the midst of a beautiful architectural wonder! The sort of structure one could go their entire lives without seeing! Her inner history geek yearned to roam the corridors inside. She could just imagine the passageways of stone, old salon chambers…

On the other hand, Liz was not an adventure person. Her fear of the unknown was pounding upon her, yelling for her to run, scream, do anything to get out of her current situation. She didn't know where she was, how she had gotten there, or if she was even alive. Could she be dead? Was this Heaven?

Speaking of such things, what exactly had happened? Liz remembered trying to run to Heather's house. She'd been doing her best to see in the rain…and then a car had come around the corner…then…black.

Liz's panic began to overcome her excitement. She was stranded in some place that seemed far from home, alone, and quite possibly dead. Definitely not a great night. She had been hit by that car, she knew that much. But how did she end up in some place with a castle?

The effort to sit up was far too strenuous for her in her present state, and so she rolled gently onto her back, gazing at the sky. Despite the peaceful surroundings, her heart was racing. As she pondered her situation wearily, she gently began to doze into a half-sleep.

_"Liz?! Liz, please say something!! Oh my God…" Heather's voice seemed to echo, even throughout the wide street._

_"Somebody! Anyone! Help!" The girl screamed_ _out desperately._

Heather's cry startled Liz from her sleep. She bolted to an upright position, eyes widened. She'd never heard her best friend like that.

"Heather…where are you…?" Liz whispered to herself sadly as she gazed across the lake. This wasn't the dream, as she had hoped.

After the quick catnap, Liz found herself in a much stronger state, though her normal stamina had yet to be restored. The sky was still full of stars, though a slight gray overcast had replaced the midnight blue, indicated that dawn was soon to come. With a loud grunt, and a large effort, Liz brought herself to her feet, and hobbled over to the nearest tree, which she leaned against for support. Once she felt she had gained back enough of her endurance, she slowly headed for the castle, all at once feeling eager to look inside it, and eager to postpone the trip as long as possible.

Liz looked to the sky once more. The stars were so much brighter here than in the city. Daybreak was soon.

However slowly she walked, or however much she daydreamed, there was no way for her to put off her entrance for more than a few short moments. Before she was ready (not that she ever would have been) she found herself at the castle entry, fist raised to the door that was, at least, four times as tall as she stood. With a deep breath, on the eighth count of five she forced her fist against the wood.

With an eerie creak, the door swung, ever so slightly, ajar. Liz sighed, and fought off every instinct that was telling her to run FAR in the opposite direction as she peered in the small open crack. She couldn't make out much, but as she was afraid to push any more on the noisy door, and was essentially rooted to the spot in fear, she made do with what she could.

In her small line of vision, all she could see was a grand staircase, presumably marble, leading up to another grand door of some sort. On either side separate hallways led off to unknown corridors and rooms. It felt…amicable. As if she had been there before.

Knowing that standing on the step would get her nowhere, Liz closed her eyes and pressed both palms firmly against the door. As she watched the sky completely turn to gray, with shots of orange beginning to highlight the east, she shoved with all of her might, causing an even larger screech as she created an opening large enough to enter through.

Ever so gently, Liz stepped into the hallway, vaguely noticing her clothes were still wet against her skin. She didn't even want to know what her hair resembled. She got a better view of the darkened hallway from where she stood, seeing in detail the stone inlay that made up the walls. Taking a moment to admire the architecture, she stepped off to the right, where a set of stairs spiraled downward. Hoping to run into someone, while at the same time wishing to remain unnoticed, she began to walk carefully down the staircase, one step at a time.

Finally, she arrived at a new floor – one made entirely of gray stone. It was a dreary area, yet it radiated that same sense of familiarity. Each step that Liz made seemed to echo in the hall.

Treading as softly as possible, Liz looked into the recesses that punctuated the walls. Upon further inspection, though it was hard to tell without any light, she could make out indistinct lines of tables. Wanting to get a better look, she stopped at the entrance of one and leaned forward, squinting her eyes so as to see.

"Looking for something?"

The icy, unexpected voice came from behind her, and sent Liz rigid. Why had she let herself do this? Walk into some random, possibly abandoned castle, complete with creaking door. It was just like one of those bad horror films where everyone laughed at the protagonist for entering the dark room. What kind of an idiot was she? When she couldn't stutter up a reply, due to her heart thumping wildly in her throat, the chilled tone continued.

"Tell me, what would a student be doing out of her dormitory at four forty seven on a Tuesday morning, when clearly, she should be in her own bedroom?"

Liz noted that the voice held a clear, British accent. How far had she managed to get from home?

"And in muggle clothing, nonetheless."

Wait. Did he say…muggle? Liz's eyes enlarged, as she couldn't help but utter a gasp. It couldn't be…

"Well it seems you are, indeed, living. What is your house?"

At this, Liz whirled around, coming face to face with a hook-nosed, lean man with greasy jet-black hair. His eyes penetrated her own.

"Snape…? DAMN!" With a yelled curse she bolted, not knowing what to think. All she could focus on were the stairs in front of her, which she was quickly approaching in desperate flight for the exit. Behind her she heard Snape himself yell something about detention as he began to give chase, albeit at a bit of a slower pace.

Her mouth dry as the Sahara desert, Liz hopped up the stairs by twos, waiting for the door to approach her vision. Just as it came into view, and the girl felt triumph upon her, a misstep cost her dearly. Hooking her foot under the lip of a stair, she came crashing upon her face. She tried desperately to pull herself up, but her exhaustion was coming back to her. She had been running on pure adrenaline, and now she feared she was crashing. This wasn't the time! Using the arm strength she had always prided herself on, she pushed her torso upwards, only to fall to the floor again. She cursed, upset that she was helpless the one time she needed to be strong. Then again, it had always been like that…

She coughed slightly, as she saw the edges of her vision begin to go black. Perhaps if she just counted to three, things would be back to normal. That always seemed to do the trick, in those fantasy movies. That or true love. But hey, she was short on that second option at the moment. And so she closed her eyes, and slowly counted.

"One…two…"

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_All there was was bright, white light, and then she couldn't see a thing. Liz was lying down, yet everything around her seemed to be moving, rushing. Something was on her face…and in her arm…constricting her. She heard rushed, muted voices around her, though no faces materialized to take credit for them._

_"Elizabeth Riley, age 16,"one informed her._

"_Hit by a yellow sedan on a local road," continued another._

_A strong, commanding voice sharply intervened. "Get her on that drip."_

"_I'm sorry…it's all my fault…" Heather seemed to be restraining her tears. She spoke only to herself, in a small, muted, ashamed sort of tone._

"_Will my daughter be alright?" Liz heard her mother's soft voice question the men around her, and felt a hand touch her own._

"_We're doing the best we can, ma'am." The first one to talk spoke again._

_The second added, "We'll know more once we get to the hospital."_

_It was only at that statement that Liz heard the sirens…_

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Liz opened her eyes from her frightening dream to find herself in an off-white room. She was lying in a rather plain white bed, surrounded by a couple dozen other exact replicas of it. She shifted and moaned, half wondering where she was, until the memory of the dungeons came back to her.

That was when it hit her full force. She was, somehow, at Hogwarts. A non-existent school for non-existent students.

Liz blinked and turned her head ever so slightly to gain a look out the picture window nearest her bed, surrounded by fluffy white curtains. Surely enough, she could spot the lake which she had sat in front of the previous night. It was light out, most likely late morning.

The brunette shook her head in disbelief and settled down into her cot. There was simply no physical way. Surely, it must have been a figment of her imagination. The result of that concussion, or something. She flipped stubbornly to her side and was about to close her eyes for another wake up attempt when a friendly tone greeted her ears.

"Good Mornin'! Heard you had quite a fall las' night."

Liz turned to see a kindly looking older woman, dressed in a nurse's attire. "Madame Pomfrey?" She questioned, dumbfounded.

The woman smiled in acknowledgement. "Now then, dear, it'll be jus' fine. Rest your head for another hour, you'll be fine."

Liz nodded, staggered, as the nurse walked off muttering something about unknown American transfer students. Just a bad, drawn out dream.

After another quarter of an hour of Liz contemplating her current situation, Madame Pomfrey came in looking rather troubled.

"I'm afraid Professor Snape wishes to see you."

Liz looked at the nurse with a rather frightened expression, but managed to nod slightly. Her heart, which had finally found it's rightful place in her chest, was beginning to creep up towards her neck again.

In a mere matter of seconds, the dark figure of Professor Severus Snape swept into the hospital wing, and towards the bed which Liz occupied. Her pulse had jumped up, and she stared, wide eyed, in fright, as Snape hovered over her bed. For a moment he was silent.

"I do not take well to students who flee from my punishments," he shot icily, "though you are not entirely memorable, I will assume that is what you are." Liz lost the courage to move, and thus could not refute the statement. Snape, who took the silence as a confirmation, continued on.

"Once you are cured from your current ailments, you shall report to detention with me, for the next three Saturdays." He shot her a glare that could have turned Hawaii into a ski resort. "And forty points shall be taken from your house, for breaking curfew, language, avoiding punishment…" he looked at her clothing with disdain, while at the same time his lips curled into a sickening grin, "…and lack of proper attire."

Liz gaped at his cruelty. She opened her mouth several times in an attempt to say something, anything, but failed each attempt.

"And your house would be…" Snape growled out, growing impatient.

"Um…sir…I don't…umm…well…"

"Spare me your useless rantings. Just answer my question." He snarled out the last sentence, causing Liz to attempt to shrink into her bed.

"Well…you see…professor…I…well…"

"OUT WITH IT!"

Liz gave a small, frightened squeal before answering in an even smaller voice, "I don't exactly…have a house…sir…"

For a moment the two stared at one another, Snape with fuming eyes, Liz with anxious ones.

"Don't have a house, you say?" His voice was controlled, yet dangerous. "Fifty points then, for all of your insolence."

"Sir…I honestly…don't…"

"A student of _Hogwarts_, without a_ house_?"

"Well…umm…I never…did say I was…um…a student…"

"And if you weren't a _student _how would you know my _name_?"

"I…um…uh…heard about you…" Liz was a horrid liar, and the livid Death Eater in front of her wasn't making things easier.

"I grow tired of your impudence." His voice was dangerously enraged, yet his calm nature made it even more intimidating. "Shall I just call the headmaster in, then? Have him look you up in the main roster?"

"Sir, please!" The daunting figure in front of her was nerve-racking, and so Liz spoke quickly without much thought. "I'm not a student here because I'm a muggle!" She gasped as the words left her lips. Shit. This was not good.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "A _muggle_, you say. Sixty points then, ms…" He waited for her to finish it, and so, reluctantly, she did.

"Riley. Elizabeth Riley." Now she was scared. Petrified, even.

"Well then Ms. Riley, it seems as if you leave me with no choice but to go look in the student roster." And with that last chilled tone, Snape swept out of the room, robes billowing behind.

Liz breathed heavily, only then noticing her hands, which had clutched desperately to the sheets on either side of her. At least he wasn't getting the headmaster. She raised herself up to prop herself against her pillow, as she had been pushed down into the bed by those black, glaring eyes of his…she shuddered and pulled her sheets up to her chin. Not a good day.

Within a mere matter of moments Snape stepped back into the room, hovering an overly large, rather dusty looking tome bound in brown leather. He let it fall to a nearby table with a crash, causing Liz, at her last nerve, to levitate in her own muggle way, as she grasped the sheets desperately.

The greasy-haired wizard pointed his wand directly at the book lying on the sagging table, and the pages ripped open to the 'R's'. His eyes scanned the pages fiercely, but to no avail. Refusing to believe what his eyes told him, he scanned again, only to be met with the same result.

"No Elizabeth Riley. Have you, perhaps, given me an alias?"

"No! I'm just…uh…well…"

Snape whirled and walked to face her. Her stuttering wasn't exactly proving her honesty, despite how sincere she was. He glared at her for a moment before uttering, "Take out your wand."

Now this caught Liz off guard. "What?"

"Take out your WAND!" He snarled his words, sounding as if he were poised for the attack.

"I don't have a wand!" Liz was tired, and frustrated. Not to mention that whole fear thing.

Snape glared for a moment, but then turned smug. He pointed his wand directly at her, causing her to flinch, and commanded clearly, "_Accio wand_."

When nothing happened, he looked confused, and rather agitated, and so he tried again, to no gain. With a growl he raised his wand and called out "_Accio Riley's wand_!" Again, nothing happened.

His eyes widened ever so briefly before returning to his usual glare. As Madame Pomfrey came back to check on Liz, he looked at her menacingly before saying, "I need to get Dumbledore. Keep her here." With that he left the room, and Liz looked, terrified, to the window, looking for some form or source of comfort. The sight brought none. The day was as bright as ever.

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**Well, that actually ended up being a bit longer than I had anticipated…hehe. I hope you all enjoyed! The more reviews I get, the sooner I'll update! So please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, people don't really seem to be reading this, but if there's anyone there who is…here you go.**

**And I'd like to thank BugMuffin369 and gracefullyme1025 for actually reviewing! You guys rock!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter series or any of its characters…sniffle or, well, any other thing that may have been inadvertently mentioned.**

**Now for the chapter…**

**Chapter Three**

Liz waited for quite some time for the return of Professor Snape, presumably with Dumbledore in tow. This would make for an interesting encounter. Her nerves had quite settled down, seeing as it had been nearly an hour since the potions…or maybe DADA…teacher had departed the hospital wing. Maybe he'd dismiss her behavior on madness and write her off to St. Mungo's. Liz found this highly unlikely, yet slightly unnerving.

The girl settled into the bed. It was surely at least noon by now, yet she hadn't had anything to eat since the night before…well, at least what she considered to be the night before. Her stomach rumbled in protest, as if it had heard her thoughts aloud, and so she pressed the sheets down against it to stop its cry. The thought of when she had last eaten brought her to another question.

How on Earth, or otherwise, had she managed to land herself in _Harry Potter_? Though a small voice still nagged at the back of her brain that it was probably nothing more than a strange dream, she was beginning to doubt that theory.

Her mind drifted back to the accident. What part had that played in this?

Liz blinked up at the white vaulted ceiling and folded her hands below her chest. She wanted to figure out how she had gotten to Hogwarts, and where exactly she was in the series. She pieced it out in her mind carefully. Dumbledore was still alive, so that ruled out the seventh book. Other than that, she didn't have a clue. She could easily be before Harry's time, for all she knew. At least she knew she wasn't with James or Sirius.

Liz sighed, and reached up to rub her temples. How had she fallen into a fictional world in the first place? Surely the car crash had something to do with it all of it- after all, she didn't remember anything happening between that and arriving in front of the castle.

She couldn't help but re-analyze the possibility that it was all a dream. But if it was a dream, how could she have felt herself hit the ground when she was running from Snape? She pinched herself hard, just as a test. Sure enough, pain surged through her left arm. The girl winced, not intending to nip her own skin so terribly. People couldn't feel in dreams, could they?

Or consciously think they were in a dream?

Liz closed her eyes quietly, and thought hard. 'I want to wake up. It's time to wake up.'

When she opened them, she was still staring at the ceiling of the hospital wing. Sighing in defeat, she shifted to her side to stare at the curtain dividing her from the next bed over.

As there was nothing to divert her attention in the room, she began to slowly drift off.

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Liz woke a few hours later to a myriad of hushed voices. Her dream of stark white corridors had stirred her, but the tones kept her from falling back to dreamland.

"But a muggle? At Hogwarts! Surely Albus, you don't realize the gravity of the situation!"

"Minerva, I assure you I am fully aware of our situation."

Liz kept still, so as not to disrupt the conversation. Perhaps if she kept up the appearance that she was still asleep, they would continue.

"And how would she know Severus?" The first voice that had spoken sounded apprehensive. Liz was fairly confident it was McGonagall. Unless, of course, another Minerva had taught at the school.

There was silence at the question, until the wizened voice of Dumbledore responded. "We won't know until she wakes. Once she does, we can properly question her."

Liz shifted ever so slightly to catch a glance out the window. The sun was already setting, indicating her nap had taken much longer than she had intended. She vaguely wondered how long the group had been sitting there.

"She knew Poppy as well," Dumbledore added thoughtfully.

"The students are in an uproar. Half the Slytherins are attempting to break into the hospital wing!" A small voice squeaked out. "No offense, Severus."

"With the fight at the ministry, the last thing we need is another issue. Especially with You-Know-Who…" A more feminine voice seemed to shudder.

Fight at the ministry. Now there was a clue for Liz. She shifted her head just enough to make out the silhouettes of the professors. There were five, all together. If only she could see Dumbledore's hand…

"Perhaps we shouldn't all be here to greet her when she wakes? It may be a bit… overwhelming." The squeaky professor that Liz had guessed was Professor Flitwick spoke. Three others nodded in agreement. The one that didn't respond, who Liz thought indeed resembled Snape, spoke out.

"We need to have this problem resolved quickly." It was certainly Snape. That voice of his made her skin crawl.

"I know, Severus. I will wait here for her to wake." Liz was relieved to hear Dumbledore's voice. Though earlier she had been apprehensive to meet him, he certainly seemed the most understanding option.

The others nodded and murmured in agreement, and one by one, departed until all but Snape and Dumbledore were left.

"You seem indifferent to this _muggle."_ Snape said the last word as if he was addressing an unpleasant thing found on the road.

"She is a person, Severus. A rather frightened one, I'd assume." Liz saw Snape shake his head ever slightly, before standing abruptly and leaving with the others. She heard the door close softly. There was a moment of silence in the room.

"Good evening, Ms. Riley." Liz jumped at the voice directed at her. The silhouette stood slowly, and then softly drew back the curtain.

Sure enough, there was Dumbledore. Right there. Liz gaped at the bearded man, who magicked a chair over to the bedside, and then seated himself in it. "I apologize for startling you." The elderly man looked concerned.

"Oh-no I-I-I…." Liz couldn't think. She couldn't think, or speak, or, well…she was at a loss for doing anything that wasn't breathing. She was even having a hard time with that one.

"I do suppose this is all a bit of a shock to you then?"

Liz, at a loss for words, simply nodded. The headmaster smiled at her kindly.

"Professor Snape informed me you were in the dungeons when he found you. I do hope you're feeling alright after that fall."

Liz nodded softly, and attempted to speak. "I'm feeling better…" She was relieved to find she was able to. Dumbledore seemed to be as well, as he gave her another kind smile. At that, Liz felt all together better about the encounter. Facing Dumbledore was much more pleasant than being yelled at by Snape. There was a moment of silence, and then Dumbledore reached into his pocket, producing an orange tart.

"Pumpkin pasty?" He offered.

"Oh, no thank you." Liz's stomach was still doing cartwheels, and food wasn't the first thing on her mind at the point in time, for once. The wizard shrugged before popping it into his own mouth.

"If you don't mind, Ms. Riley, I have a few questions for you."

"Um…okay…" A thousand stories began to circulate in her mind at once, as she desperately thought up what she'd be able to make Dumbledore believe. Knowing him, most likely not much. She gulped, hoping it wasn't audible. Why was she so horrible under pressure?!

"Professor Snape has informed me that you are a muggle."

The girl nodded, playing with her now-frizzy hair. It was a nervous habit.

"I must say, I'm impressed. A muggle who found our wizarding school." His expression was still kind, but Liz was frantic on the inside.

'Play dumb! Play dumb!' She screamed at herself in her own mind.

"Umm…yeah…" She mentally slapped herself. 'Way to play dumb, idiot.'

"How is it that you stumbled upon the term?"

"Umm…what term?"

"The term muggle. It's common in the wizarding world, but not exactly in your society." His understanding blue eyes pierced her dark brown ones. She blanked.

"I…um…well…you see…had a…friend. She umm…said she was a witch…and that…I was a muggle…and…ummm…explained what it was." Another mental slap. Way to studder there. Dumbledore simply nodded, though she noted a look of suspicion from him.

"And how was it you managed to find Hogwarts?" He flourished his hand, indicating the castle. Liz glanced down at his other one, only to find it was tucked in his robes.

The she turned her attention to the question. Would he be able to help her home? There was always a chance…and it wouldn't cause an issue…

"I…I'm honestly not sure," Liz began softly, her gaze moving to her own hands which had finally nestled into her lap.

"Hm?" He was prompting her to continue. So she did.

"Well…I was running across the street…it was getting late…and it was raining out…" she slowly pieced together her thoughts as she tried to give a decent explanation."…I couldn't really see the road. And…there was a car. I think…I think I was hit." She paused, the situation not entirely sinking in for her. "Then I somehow ended up here." She looked back into his eyes, her genuine puzzlement showing in hers. He too, looked confused.

"I'm not one for driving muggle vehicles," he pondered, "but I'd imagine they do quite a bit of damage."

Liz nodded in agreement.

"And yet you managed to arrive unharmed, for the most part."

"Well, I am pretty sore…" Liz added.

There was silence for a moment, and then Dumbledore questioned her again. "Would you mind if I tested the fact that you were a muggle?"

Liz looked at him strangely. She knew perfectly well she was a muggle. Why wasn't anyone getting that? She shrugged, but the perceptive headmaster saw her doubt.

"Just a test, Ms. Riley. It seems odd for you to arrive here, with no magical prowess." Dumbledore drew out his own wand, and wordlessly summoned another wooden one from across the room. It fell gently into her hands. He smiled encouragingly. "Just give it a flick."

Liz, feeling rather like an idiot, waved the wand gently in the air. As she expected, nothing happened. The headmaster motioned for her to do so again, and so she did. Again there was no result. Happy at proving her sanity, if she could even say such a thing considering her current situation, she placed the wand in her lap and looked at the wizened man, satisfied. He looked rather stunned. Well, as stunned as Dumbledore could possibly look.

"See? Just a muggle." Liz smiled, feeling a bit bolder. At least she had proved something.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. There was quiet for a moment, and then he moved on. "How was it you knew Professor Snape by name?"

"Um…my friend!" Liz exclaimed a little too exuberantly. "That witch. She um…talked about him pretty frequently."

"Ah, I see." Liz could tell he wasn't buying it. Luckily, he made no motion to call her out on her hideous tale.

"And so…your friend told you about Madame Pomfrey as well?"

Liz nodded energetically.

He smiled, seeming to sense what Liz was hiding. She worried he saw right through her.

"How is it you plan to return home?"

"Well I…" Liz trailed off, trying to think of how she would return. She opened her mouth a few times, as if to begin her statement, but closed it each time, not quite knowing what to say. Dumbledore simply patted her hand with one of his own.

"I'm sure we can help you to return back once you're feeling better. I simply wanted to know if you had an idea."

Liz waited for the next question, but none came. Instead, Dumbledore seemed to be lost in thought for a few moments. Finally, he straightened himself and looked once again at the muggle.

"Well thank you Ms. Reed. Is there anything you'd like to ask in return?"

Liz looked up in surprise. She hadn't seen that one coming. "Excuse me?"

"Now that I've questioned you, I feel it's only fair to offer you the same opportunity." He folded his one hand neatly covering the other, and sat back in his chair.

Liz thought for a moment, and then decided on her first inquiry. "What does Professor Snape teach?"

Dumbledore settled back in his chair. "He teaches a course known as Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Liz smiled triumphantly. So she WAS in Harry Potter's sixth year. Well at least she knew her timing.

"In previous years he did teach Potions. I'm surprised your friend didn't inform you of such a thing." Dumbledore's tone appeared innocent, but Liz wondered if he was digging.

"Um…we lost contact some time ago…"

"What was this friend's name? Perhaps I know her." Oh yes, definitely digging.

"Um…well…I don't…really remember. I mean, it was so long ago we were friends, really…"

Dumbledore looked at her questioningly, seeming to implore her to continue.

"We met when we were ten, and were friends until we were…twelve. Yes, twelve." Liz smiled with a hint of more confidence.

"And if you don't mind me asking, how old are you now?"

"Sixteen." Liz answered quickly. At least that was one question she didn't have to lie about. He nodded.

"Is there anything else you would like to know?" Liz shook her head.

"Thank you for answering my questions," she managed to studder out, relief that the encounter was finally ending sweeping through her.

"And thank you for responding to mine. Goodnight, Ms. Riley." Dumbledore stood, and with a small smile, walked from the room, leaving Liz to contemplate the encounter on her own.

The girl sighed, staring out the window into the darkening night, imagining her home, far from where she was. Her eyes moved to explore, once again, the room she was in. This time, however, something caught her eye. Liz smiled at the wall calendar not too far from her own bed, on which two wizards were racing around on brooms. She looked down, wondering mildly what day it was.

Sure enough, she located the date, but something was amiss. It was a Thursday, not a Tuesday. Confused, she looked to the year, and her mouth dropped.

The page read 1996.

**I know it's not the greatest update, but it's an update, haha. It'll probably be a while before I update again, seeing as I need to work on my other fic and school is back. I'd certainly appreciate reviews:)**


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